Migrating South

     The day had started out great for her, just as she thought it would.
She was finally going to meet him, the guy she had fallen head over heels
for on the Internet.  The expectation of his arrival was overwhelming her.

     It seemed like forever, but eventually she was standing by the window
in the airport waiting for the plane to touch down.  And finally, there it
was, and the knot in her stomach tightened a little more.  As she watched,
waiting for him to come through those doors, her heart began to race, and
her palms began to get sweaty in anticipation.

     At last, there he stood.  Entranced, she just stood there, staring at
him; he was here, in the flesh.  "He's even more adorable in person," she
thought to herself as she walked over to greet him.

     "Hello," she said and threw her arms around his neck. He reciprocated
her actions, and right there, even though they were a spectacle to passing
strangers, they stood embracing and then passionately kissing one another.
Laughing and realizing that they were the current center of attention,
they let go of each other and grabbed the rest of his bags and headed
home--to her place.

     The whole way home they talked about everything imaginable, as though
they'd been friends their whole lives.  But they never talked about the
one thing they both knew was inevitable.  They had been talking to one
another and had been an item for a few months now.  All the while the
sexual tension had been building. While driving and talking, she stole
little wayward glances at him, and the nervousness of things to come
started to set in. Knowing that her "first time" was about to become a
real, live, and intense experience had her slightly jittery, but excited,
nonetheless.

     As reality set in completely, she pulled into her parking space.
Helping him with his bags she led him into her house, not knowing what to
expect or what was coming next, but feeling his closeness only made her
want him more.  The slight but definitely aluring aroma of his aftershave
had lit a fire deep within her, a fire not easily put out.

     The coffee he had gladly accepted during his flight did nothing for
his nervous stomach, the added acidity and caffeine making him even more
jittery, on edge, and generally uncomfortable.  "I'm not accepting that
horrible shit again." he thought, "even if it is free!".  Walking towards
her in the arrivals area, he tried to smile, tried not to fiddle with
anything, tried in short to look more relaxed than he really was.

     Then, there he was, in front of her, and with little time to form an
initial impression, he was in her arms, saying a nervous "hey," and then
gladly returning her welcoming kiss.  The scent was intoxicating, but that
was nothing compared to the feel of her in his arms, her fullness,
ripeness, plumpness ...  "All woman for sure!" he thought, as his
nervousness ebbed away, to be replaced almost immediately by a low,
throbbing, desire for her, for those big legs and arms to encircle him and
draw him into her warm depths.  More bold now, he ground against her and
combined a suck of her tongue with pressing it between his tongue and the
roof of his mouth, rhythmically squeezing her tongue in this position as
if devowering it.  Was that a tremor of desire he felt in her?
Definitely a sharp intake of breath there . . .

     He felt the nervousness returning as they drove to her place,
however, and wondered more than once if they were babbling a bit too much.
The odd brush against a thigh kept the desire building though, his seat
belt and jeans restricting and providing resistance to a growing bulge
beneath. "I can't do this tonight, not yet anyway," he thought, surprised
at his own mild feelings of panic at the thought of being her first lover,
knowing only too well that you can't take back that first experience, no
matter how it goes.

     After orienting himself to her place, noting important things like
the route to the bathroom, how the shower worked, he suggested they both
go for a meal somewhere, his plan being to sit on the same side of a booth
as her in some restaurant, and sneak the occasional feel of one delicacy
while he ate other lesser delicacies.  Taking her hand under the table and
squeezing it affectionately, the two sets of fingers interlocking,
separating, arranging themselves in a new pattern, thumbs stroking the
other's palm, he was rewarded when a new electric huskiness crept into her
voice when trying to order a drink from the waiter.

     "Um, yes, two cokes please, for now.  Thanks," she said.  All along,
under the table, their fingers were still entwined.  "Mmm. Very soft
hands," she thought as she held on to him.  Periodically, he'd steel a
little feel of something a little less obvious than that of her hands, a
private, concealed area, that no one before him had been allowed any such
access.  She only hoped that he didn't notice that with every lingering
touch, her pulse picked up, and her breathing pattern changed.  Little did
he know, but he was causing her to lose her cool, something she had hoped
to keep under control.  "If he builds things up like this for another
whole day," she thought, "I might just have to make my needs known a bit
more forcefully then through mere hand-holding!"  As if reading her mind,
his hand strayed from hers and idolly stroked her soft, meaty, warm
inner-thigh, her immediate--instinctual?--reaction being to clamp her
thighs tight on his hand as if to say "Mine!  All mine!"

     After joking around about the odd items and crazy names on the menu,
they were prepared to order.  He had been commically indecisive, and after
playful begging, finally came to a decision.  She thought it was cute how
he came up with several ways to annoy their waiter, and back up his jokes
with an affectionate squeeze of her hand.  "No ice in that coke?" she
thought, "Damn!  Oh well, we can get ice somewhere else for later."

     They ate in partial silence, both almost grateful for the voices and
conversations of the others around them distracting them from any major
discussion.  Occasionally, they'd make joking remarks about the oddness of
the goings on of all the others in the room.  She liked how he could
concentrate on his food while also concentrating on some other
conversation in the room, adopting a single-minded awareness that, until
now, she had thought only carnivorous beasts on the hunt possessed.

     All of a sudden, remembering a tidbit from one of their e-mails, she
began to laugh.

     "And just what are you laughing about?" he asked.

     "Nothing really," she replied, "just thinking about something you
said."

     "There is no blood in my larger head right now," he said, suddenly
right there near her ear, flicking the lobe with his tongue after this
statement, "so why don't you remind me?"

     Without anything but a soft giggle, she began to rub his back.
Eventually bringing it to the area right above the top of his jeans, and
the bottom of his shirt.  She slid it midways under his shirt, and
caressed his smooth skin.  Sliding it downwards to the small of his back,
she allowed her fingers to drop beneath the jeans, not searching for
anything in particular, but just getting a small feel of him, and those
silky boxers.  She smiled, satisfied by the look on his face, his slight
shy embarrassment as he resumed chewing his food.

     "Are you finished, sweetie?" she asked.

     "No, I think we both need something to relax with and sip," he said,
ordering two Bayley's Coffees soon after, knowing she couldn't help but
love something that tasted like alcoholic candy, good strong coffee, sugar
flavored with lime juice, and of course whipped cream.  They both got a
slight but noticeable--not to mention very pleasant--buzz from this
beverage, and she giggled at his usual practice of rotating the mug with
his tongue extended down the inside, getting all the sugar and cream off.
She noticed that his reach, while not long, was extremely efficient, not
to mention diligent.

     "Hmmm, he really puts his heart into licking tasty things." she said
under her breath, with a smirk.

     The bill paid, the waiter tipped, they headed out into the cool
evening air.

     "Walking a bit or driving somewhere Jess?" he said, turning to face
her and stopping her in her tracks, keys mid-way out of her purse.

     "And while I've got your attention," he said, coming much closer,
hugging her and resting his chin on her shoulder, "I don't think we should
postpone the inevitable any longer.  It's time we made up for a lack of
something, after what seems like a lifetime of great communicating."

     She reluctantly backed away, aware all too much that his quiet words
and hot breath on her neck were making her incapable of rational
decision-making.  Her keys once again in her hand, she lead him to the
car, knowing exactly where they should go to enjoy the first part of the
oncoming night.

     It seemed like the walk back to the car took forever.  Her mind
raced, nervousness returned, and all of a sudden she couldn't do anything
but fumble around with the keys.  Finally she was able to open his door,
then hers and start the car.

     They rode in silence and she thought, "if I'm going to do this, I'm
gonna do it right."  She knew ahead of time that her roommate would be
gone all this evening, and the house would be totally theirs, with nothing
to stop them from tonights happenings, other than themselves.

     "So, where we going?" he asked as if he didn't already have an idea.

     Trying to sound calm and collective she replied, "home." And with a
jittery laugh, she added, "don't worry, no one is there."

     When they returned to the house, walking up the path to the door,
knowing that once inside, moods, emotions, and most importantly, both of
their needs were about to be shown to one another.  She wasn't sure of
what exactly to do or how to begin anything.  So, she began to pace. And
along with the pacing, she started feeling a little bit silly.  "God,
girl," she scolded herself, "do something!"

     With that thought in her mind, she walked into her bathroom and began
to draw a hot bath.  Reaching up into the cabinet she pulled out a tiny
bag tied with a little ribbon and inhaled the scents which came from
within.  Turning the bag over above the tub, tiny, raspberry, bath salts
fell below into the depths of the steamy water.  She lit her small votives
that she had previously arranged for this very moment and stood back
admiring the scene.  She called out for the missing piece of the puzzle.

     "Chris?" she called.

     "Yeah, Jess?"

     "I'm going to take a bath now," she said and then paused for a
moment.  And then in the most seductive and inviting voice she could
muster, she called to him, "Would you be interested in joining me?"

     As he approached the bathroom, he became aware of three things:
nervous anxiety in the pit of his stomach, added moisture in the warm air,
and a raspberry aroma that was nothing short of stimulating.  Taking her
in his arms, he began kissing her neck passionately, tongue and lips
roaming, spreading his saliva around on the smooth soft skin.  His heart
was pounding compareably fast to his first time years earlier, as was her
heart as his tongue flicked up and down and along the ridge of her
colarbone, sneaking every now and then into the top of her shirt.

     Then, kissing her at just the right speed on the mouth, their tongues
dueling and sliding over each other, his hands crept up inside the back of
her shirt to the clasp of her bra.  Once undone, he helped her out of
them, her soft full breasts filling his hands as he palmed the hardening
nipples.  The water half-filling the tub, the steamy and fragrant air
filling the bathroom . . . all that was needed now was to finish
undressing and get in the bath.

     He decided to let her finish undressing herself, not wanting to add
to her nervousness by exploring her most private of regions yet, he
quickly got out of his own clothes.  His shere silk boxers were not nearly
enough to conceal his rock-hard cock poking straight up through the
elastic wasteband.  As his underwear slid down his legs, he left his
nervousness behind by leaning over, flexing and stretching his butt,
thighs, and calves, giving her a full view of his slim but muscular legs.

     She eased herself into the hot bath, slowly at first, as the water
temperature was much warmer then the surrounding air or her skin.  Once in
and half-propped up by one end, legs extending the length of the tub, she
dipped a hand in the water and grasped his, gently but insistantly tugging
him closer.  As he gingerly stepped in facing her, his left foot placed
firmly between her knees, he took both her hands in his and climbed in,
leaned forward, and fell into her waiting embrace.  Their mouths locked,
their much more ravenous kissing betraying the months of pent-up need and
desire.  He paused long enough to reassure her that he could kiss as long
as she needed, that he wanted her to lead him on but at her pace, his
voice husky, trembling, betraying both his extreme state of arousal and
honorable level of restraint.

     She had never been kissed with such passion and intensity before.
She was excited. His reassuring words and gentleman-like patience helped
her to fight the nervousness within.  She wasn't sure if it was ok for her
to joke around at such a serious time, so she decided to keep her thought
to herself.

     Thinking that although patience is a virtue, she wasn't positive that
she wanted to prolong this event for too long.  She returned his next
kiss, while placing a hand around his neck and fiddling with his hair.
All the while her other hand rested in the center of his chest.

     She began to move it around his chest, rubbing, massaging, seeking.
She eventually worked it around to his back and in long, swift motions
began to stroke it.  Slowly making her way down, farther than before, and
getting a nice feel of his tight, muscular behind.

     In an attempt to be daring, and out of character, she pulled her hand
around to the front of his body and back to his ab area.  Realizing where
she was heading his muscles tightened, and she thought she heard a light
gasp and a quick intake of air come from him.  She had noticed before,
when he was standing, stretching in front of her, that his cock was
standing at attention and she had let it go.  Not this time.  She took it
into her hands and stroked it.  At the same time, she decided to switch it
up a bit and pushed him backwards, so he was the one sitting down, with a
leg stretched out and one still bent. Not wanting to have any intercourse
activity in the tub, she straddled the knee of the leg he had completely
straightened, and then leaned forward towards him.

     She planted a trail of kisses on him, starting at his mouth, going to
his neck, and stopping long enough to nibble on his ear. She resumed
kissing his chest, then circling and flicking both of his nipples lightly
with her tongue.  Going a little lower, leaving kisses around his belly
button, she wasn't sure if she was ready to go lower just yet.  So to make
up for it, as she went back up to kissing him on his mouth, she put a hand
on his chest for stability, and took his cock in the other.  She began to
stroke it slowly, up and down, occasionally massaging the head with her
thumb.  After stroking him a little faster, and with a bit more pressure,
she noticed that his needs and excitement level was rising and becoming
even more apparent.  While watching him, she came to realize that he
wasn't the only one who wanted this to happen really bad.

     Abruptly, knowing she had just pulled off quite a bath tub tease
session, she stood up.

     "Come on," she said, grabbed his hands and pulled him to his feet.

     She wrapped her arms around him once more and kissed him for a few
moments, allowing them to drip dry, not really caring about fully drying
off.  She stepped out of the tub, beckoning him to follow.
     Grabbing his hands, almost pulling in urgency, she led him to the one
room she wanted her first experience to happen in--her bedroom.

     Together they pulled the covers back, then climbed on the large bed.
both on their sides, facing each other, reaching down to pull the covers
back up, he was aware of both the smell of her sex, and the smell of the
perfumed bathwater as it still dampened her skin.  He had to have some of
that.  He kissed her neck, then started moving down, stopping to bury his
face between her breasts--his tongue licking, his lips fluttering, his
teeth grazing her smooth warm skin.

     A knee against her quickly became wet, betraying her state of
arousal, and he quickly pushed her onto her back.  Kissing her soft belly
now, a finger began to trace her mound, circling around it's moist, hot,
center.  He dipped his finger in, found her lips to be soft, full, and
very very ready.  that was it.  He had to taste, not just his finger which
he quickly licked clean with a grin, but taste her, bury his face in her
femininity--go to the source.

     Her full thighs spread to capture his shoulders, he first kissed one
inner thigh then the other, then licked between her lips, her unique
flavor making his cock ache, not to mention his heart race.  He got
bolder, licking from her puckered ass to the top of her slit, flicking his
tongue over her clit as soon as he found it.  She could feel her hips
starting to sway, could hear her breathing increase, and he encouraged
this by a playful slap on the butt.

     He licked then probed her sopping hairless pussy, soon switching to
probing it with one finger, his tongue concentrating more on her clit.
Excitement overwhelming her she reached down, grabbing his head, as though
she could help him plunge deeper with his tongue. Her body overruled her
initial thoughts and began to take over, making her hips sway and her back
arch.

     Muttering his name, almost pleading for him, she knew what she
wanted, and by the looks of his cock, he wanted it too.  She touched his
face with her hands, and almost cupping his chin, urged him back up to
her, almost pulling him.  He came directly up to her mouth, kissing her,
and allowing her to taste her own juices.

     "I'm ready," she mumbled between kisses, and prepared herself for
what was coming next.

     Immediately he was positioned over her. With a silent go ahead, he
entered her.  Soft moans came from within her, and she reached up,
clasping on to the bars of her headboard. And in a slow, gentle, yet
consistent motion, he began to pump his cock in and out of her.  Her heart
racing, instinct was taking over and she was moving in time with him.
Although there wasn't any real pain, she had a sense of fulfillment and
ecstasy that she couldn't have ever felt 'playing' alone.

     Breathing heavy, yet rapid, she asked him to go faster.  He did, and
the sweat between his chest and her breasts began to collect, making
things delightfully slippery there too.  His senses heightened, he once
again became aware of sounds in the room--the squeaking of the bed, her
fast and somewhat ragged breathing, and the wet slapping sound of their
fucking.  She tensed suddenly, her breath caught then released itself in a
louder moan.  Her legs rapped around him, trying to pull him further in.

     Knowing she wouldn't take much more without cumming, he picked up the
pace to a frantic level, almost losing any sense of rhythm in his haste to
put them both over the top.  She came with a yell only a few seconds
later, and as her pussy began to wetly contract around his cock, squeezing
it, milking it, he unloaded in her with a grunted "Oh fuck!", as just
about every muscle in his body tensed.  He came, fully buried in her
smooth, grasping pussy, and collapsed on her, panting hot breath on her
neck then kissing her.

     They lay there for awhile, her arms and legs wrapped around him, his
cock shrinking but still inside her, just enjoying the moment.  Exhausted
they didn't move right away.  Immediately her mind was flooded with
thoughts.  One being why had she waited so long, and another contradicting
that very thought by being happy she waited for this very person.

     She began to chuckle. At that point he rolled off, and out of her.

     "That was good," she chuckled, her bubbliness back again, but not
doing anything but staring up at the ceiling.

     Reaching over and clasping his hand she stated in all seriousness,
"No regrets."

     "Good, I'm glad," he said with a smile, and they kissed once again.

     She turned onto her side, laid her head on his upper chest, and
draped an arm around his waist.  Leaning over, kissing her forehead, he
put an arm around her shoulders.  Both, completely satisfied at how this
evening progressed, decided to rest.  And in each others arms, they slept.